


The Book of Judith

by GiulsTheGrey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Bible in Good Omens's style, Denial, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misgendering, Mutual Pining, Other, Painting as a way to cope, Past Rape/Non-con, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), rape is not mentioned or described but implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiulsTheGrey/pseuds/GiulsTheGrey
Summary: *Holofernes explained the last details of the siege, gloated some more and then dismissed his men. Crawly left the war tent and went in search of a sunbathed rock where he could rest for a bit. He found the perfect spot just outside the military camp and there he sat, facing the far walls of Bethulia. He let his eyes slowly close in the soft breeze which accompanied the descent of the sun. He was on the verge of napping off when he felt something. A tickle, a pinch nudging at his very self. He opened his eyes and, even if there were still miles between the two of them, met a very familiar stare. Aziraphale’s.*This is the story of Judith, of humanity's ineffability and an angel and a demon who saw it all.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an ineffable adaptation of the Book of Judith from the Bible. It is about war, so there is some violence.  
> I hope you will enjoy it!

**1612**

The sun has just come down on the city of Florence. Most people have gone home to their families. Not Artemisia: she’s still sitting in her dark workshop, unmoving, staring at an empty canvas. As the last rays of the sun caress her skin and leave the room at last, for a fleeting moment the young woman resembles a statue made of marble. A suffering Mary, as in Michelangelo’s _Pietà._ But then the light completely vanishes and she’s just a girl again. The suffering is still there though. And she’s still staring at the empty canvas. 

Aziraphale finds her so as he peaks into the room. Before going inside, he reaches discretely for her soul. He usually does this to better comprehend the ways of mortals and hence to help them more efficiently. But as soon as the contact is made, he yelps and backs a few steps away, shocked. Her pain and her fear are too much for him to stand and he wasn’t expecting such violent emotions in the first place. He finds himself sinking against the wall, shutting his eyes and fumbling for some air.

A pair of hands touches him lightly on his cheeks. “Just breathe, angel. In and out, slowly. Such a sensitive creature, aren't you?” 

Aziraphale obeys, trying to put himself back together. When he finally looks up, he’s not surprised to meet a golden stare. A serpent’s stare. Crowley’s. As soon as they make eye contact, the demon withdraws his hands in a quick movement, as he got his palms burnt.

“Sorry… too much pain… I wasn’t prepared…” the angel stammers between one gulp of air and the next. Is his racing heart going to calm down, eventually?

“Don’t mention it. These bodiesss do react in strange ways. You should know it by now that it’s not a good idea to go around poking human souls. The things you risk to unleash...”

Aziraphale finally finds the strength to stand up. His legs still feel a bit wobbly but manners come before everything else: he hasn’t greeted the demon properly yet. “Hello Crowley. How are you? What brings you here?”

Crowley looks at him like he’s nuts but replies nonetheless. “Hello angel. I’m doing as I always do. And I’m here because I was told to… lead astray a young painter. Apparently, she’s too talented to be left alone.” 

“Oh, what a coincidence! I was told to inspire her. She’s going to be the first woman to enter Florence’s drawing academy in a few years… Wait… Oh goodness! What are we supposed to do now? I can’t let you… I should probably thwart...”

“Relax, angel, we'll do as we always do. No actual thwarting required” the demon smirks.

Aziraphale smiles hesitantly, somehow trusting the demon’s confidence, and steps towards the room in which Artemisia is still staring at the canvas but Crowley stops him with an outstretched arm. “Wait,” he says, “I don't think she would be... happy to see two _men_ entering her workshop. You saw it yourself: the memory of the violence is still fresh in her mind.”

“You're right,” Aziraphale murmurs, “how careless of me.”

They stand on the threshold for a while, observing the lonely figure ahead. Then, Aziraphale snaps his fingers, changing his elaborate dress into a simple tunic. He’s clearly no man but also no woman. He’s angelic benevolence incarnate, Crowley supposes. After a couple of seconds, the demon does the same, minus the heavenly bit. And his tunic is black, of course.

They step silently inside and stop just behind the girl’s stool. Still, she doesn't turn.

Aziraphale reaches for Artemisia again, physically this time, but Crowley catches his hand before it touches her shoulder, giving him a pointed look. _You would be overwhelmed again._

Aziraphale knows the demon is right but he doesn't know what else he might do to comfort her. He feels useless. What kind of miracle can someone perform in this kind of situation? What kind of gesture, what kind of word could soothe such terrible feelings?

Suddenly, a candle lights itself, soon accompanied by all the other candles in the room and then Crowley’s velvety voice resonates, soft and ethereal: “You are scared but also angry. You feel weak but also resolute.”

“I do” Artemisia whispers.

“And so you must know that there is no better way for you to take it all out but with that brush.” Said brush appears in the girl’s hand, diligently following Crowley’s instructions.

“I do” she says again, lifting her tool in front of her face, studying it intently. 

“Sometimes, creating something is the best way to pour it all out. To express our suffering, our deepest emotions which can't be put into words.”

“I know,” she says, grabbing her palette, “but I can't find the right way to do so. The right subject for this canvas.”

“Someone strong” Aziraphale finally breaks his silence. “Someone strong and yet gentle, humble and yet courageous.”

Crowley glances at him, as he slowly realises who he is talking about. Aziraphale can see the memory emerge in his wondering eyes.

Artemisia raises her brush, ready, as they whisper in unison, “Judith.” 


	2. The first day of siege

**587 B.C.**

The sky on Jezreel Valley was cloudless and the air clear so that the army marching towards Bethulia was plainly visible from the city walls. Holofernes didn’t care about secrecy, anyway: the Babylonian general had already conquered many lands with that same army and Bethulia, the last bastion before Jerusalem, was going to be no exception.

“We have cut all their sources of water, they won’t last long. In a week they will have to surrender” Holofernes told his men, inside his war tent. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips at the thought of the celebratory banquets which would be prepared for him once back home. And at the thought of battle. _What a wicked soul,_ Crawly thought, observing the meeting from just a few steps behind the Babylonian warrior.

“With all due respect, general,” a weak voice pointed out, “but… the God of Israel is powerful. We shouldn’t provoke his anger. Maybe we should leave before it’s too late.”

“Achior, Ammonite king, am I right? Tell me, Achior, why should I fear a God who was silent and unseen while I killed and enslaved his people?” Holofernes asked, presumptuously.

Achior opened his mouth again but Crawly decided to speak up before the fool could somehow change the general’s mind. “In fact, you should not, mighty Holofernes. The land of Israel is almost completely yours and their beloved God has not shed one single tear on he… _his_ people. He apparently doesn’t care enough to intervene. This is the opportunity you were waiting for to prove your value to king Nebuchadnezzar. The glory you deserve awaits you in the city of Bethulia, my general.”

Holofernes nodded, “You speak wisely, Anutar.” The prick was so egocentric that he couldn’t tell adulation and respect apart. Crawly despised him but work was work and the demon had to carry through that particular assignment, which involved ‘scaring the shit out of the chosen people while securing the biggest number possible of souls for Hell’. Lord Beelzebub seemed to think it was quite the way to scorn Upstairs.

Achior, too much a coward to stand up in front of the general, shied away, throwing a disdainful glance at Crawly. The demon idly wondered what that man would fear the most, eventually: God’s or the Babylonians’ ire?

Holofernes explained the last details of the siege, gloated some more and then dismissed his men. Crawly left the war tent and went in search of a sunbathed rock where he could rest for a bit. He found the perfect spot just outside the military camp and there he sat, facing the far walls of Bethulia. He let his eyes slowly close in the soft breeze which accompanied the descent of the sun. He was on the verge of napping off when he felt something. A tickle, a pinch nudging at his very self. He opened his eyes and, even if there were still miles between the two of them, met a very familiar stare. Aziraphale’s.

He jumped away from the stone and ran back into the camp, muttering under his breath: “Shit, shit, SHIT!”

Aziraphale was observing the looming army from the city walls of Bethulia. The last rays of the sun glinted on the weapons of the soldiers patrolling the enemy's camp. One after the other, the fires were lit.

The angel had been sent there to help the chosen people. Upstairs had reassured him that help from above would come eventually. So he had taken a simple role, no weapons, faithfully waiting. Now that the city was on the verge of doom, he felt really stupid. Of course God wouldn't intervene: Bethulia was only a small city. She was probably saving her power for Jerusalem.

Suddenly, his human eyes caught something strange, a small black spot in the distance. He squinted then almost swore as his ethereal eyes focused on him. “Crawly” he whispered, shocked. No, it couldn't be. But then he felt the demon staring back at him and felt even worse.

The two of them were hereditary enemies, no doubts on that, but they had never found themselves so thoroughly on two different sides. Human sides. It complicated things.

“Azaria, is everything all right?” a gentle voice came from behind him.

Aziraphale turned, fidgeting with the cape on his head, to face the woman behind him.

“Yes, my dear Judith. It’s just… I’m worried. That army is huge.”

Judith smiled, “Do not worry, my maid, have faith. God will help us in the moment of need. Come now, the city rulers are going to meet soon to decide our line of action and I don't want to miss the debate.”

Aziraphale followed his mistress, silently praying that she was right.

Crawly found Achior in his tent, suspiciously packing everything up. Apparently, the man had anticipated the serpent’s own idea. 

“What do we have here” Crawly asked, still unseen.

The Ammonite king startled and turned to face him, a fighting knife in his hand. As soon as he recognised him, he scoffed, “Ah, Anutar, ‘the messenger of Anu’ himself. Come to cut loose ends?”

The demon cackled, amused. “Not at all, human. I was just curious to see what you would do after our little confrontation. Seems I got through you. You’re afraid.”

“Don’t you know what that God is capable of? Never heard of when Egypt forced its hand on the Jews?”

“Of course I have, and it’s all true, for all that matters.”

“Then you must see why I am afraid” Achior finally spat. “I followed the Babylonians only because it was the best thing to do for my people, to avoid Nebuchadnezzar’s wrath. But they’re daring the odds too much. I’m leaving.”

There was a moment of terse silence in which the Ammonite king couldn’t stop glancing from his knife to Crawly, back and forth.

“You’re thinking of killing me, aren’t you? A priest of Anu?”

“Anu, on the contrary of God, never showed his presence to the world. And I can’t let you snake slither away and crawl up at Holofernes’s ear to whisper my plan to him.”

“No need to, human. I’ll come with you. I’ll help you to reach Bethulia”

The human smirked, ready to launch himself against Crawly. “How so?”

The demon grinned too and explained, “Because Holofernes already sent an assassin for you and, unless you trust me, you won’t make it out alive.”

Achior went still, trying to figure out if he was bluffing. It was in that exact moment that said assassin decided to strike, jumping through a cut in the tent’s wall. He had made it to an inch from Achior’s throat when Crawly blinked with demonic intention and time just... stopped. Then, the demon grabbed the stupefied Ammonite king and dragged him away, as far as possible, toward Bethulia. Between a breath and the next, time started again and an assassin found himself naked in the middle of a desert, desperately rethinking his life choices.

“We must fight, we can’t let the army near Jerusalem!”

“But too many of us will die! We are heavily outnumbered. We must surrender.”

“If we surrender, they will force us to turn to their gods-”

“OUR God is not helping us. We’ve been waiting for His support but nothing-”

“You won’t disrespect our Lord in this place!”

“We ran out of water, the people are scared!”

In Aziraphale’s opinion, the meeting of the city’s rulers – Oziah, Cabri and Carmi – wasn’t going anywhere. He was seated beside Judith, who had been listening the whole time, silently and carefully. She was no chief but everyone respected her, because she had a gentle word for everyone and, above all, she hadn’t lost faith even when her husband, head of the city militia, had tragically died. She was still mourning him but refused to let her pain get in the way of the wellness of her people. It was no surprise she had been accepted as a sort of city counsellor.

Aziraphale had been happy about his assignment, for once: keep an eye on this Judith and the whole Bethulia. Until the army hadn’t showed up, of course. The habit of testing humanity (and Aziraphale’s resolve) wasn’t going to end soon, apparently.

The city rulers were still screaming at each other when the door banged open. Aziraphale, who was totally lost in his own thoughts, jerked back to reality at the sudden prickling he felt. Because Crawly was now in the room, accompanied by a rather pale man.

The people went positively silent (the angel hadn’t noticed a headache building until that moment), looking puzzled or scared. It was Judith who stood up and coolly demanded, “How did you get in here? Explain yourself before I have you two executed.”

“For how much appalling it is, execution won’t do us any good and-” Crawly started but was cut off by his companion, who cried out, “They almost killed me! Holofernes almost killed me!”

The man was clearly in shock and, after throwing a weary glance at them, Judith went to fetch some water for the poor fellow. Crawly let him collapse on a chair and approached Aziraphale, a fiendish smile with too many teeth in display on his lips.

“Angel, what a sssurprise-”

“It’s Azaria here. And don’t act surprised, I know very well you spotted me here.”

“Azaria” the demon repeated, rolling the name on his tongue and somehow succeeding in making it sound obscene. “A woman, then.”

“Actually, I’m not really making an effort. Just changed my clothes. The humans just see what they want to see... Why am I even explaining myself to you?”

“Because you missed me.”

Before Aziraphale could deny everything, Judith was back and approached the two of them. “So, do you know this… man, Azaria? Can we trust him?”

“I don’t…” he started, but was interrupted by an elbow in his side. He scornly glanced at the demon, promising him a confrontation later, and then reluctantly corrected himself, “I think so, my lady.” After all, it was better not to involve humans in their unearthly quarrel. But he surely didn’t expect what the woman would say next. “Then, these two poor souls can stay in my home. There is plenty of space and they surely need to rest. Escaping from the Babylonian camp and surviving an assassination attempt are no easy tasks, they must be exhausted.” Then she added, raising her voice to be heard by everyone in the room, “It is useless to continue this discussion today, for our souls are weary and our body tired. Come tomorrow to my home, after the fourth bell has rung, and then we will find a solution. Maybe our new guests will even know how to help us.”

 _Oh my, sleeping under the same roof with a demon?_ Aziraphale thought, feeling slightly desperate. But he couldn’t go against his mistress’s will. And, to be honest, it wasn't even the first time the circumstances required them to do so. Thus, he followed her outside, as Judith led a king, an angel and a demon to her humble home.

Even if Anutar had saved him, Achior wasn’t so sure he could trust the ‘priest’ (he wasn’t sure anymore the creature was really a priest, to be honest): what if it was all a ploy, what if he was double-crossing them all? At first, he could see no reason why Anutar might want to help the city of Bethulia. But then, Achior noticed how he looked at Judith’s maid and understood everything.

## ***

**1612**

“Good Lord, it’s morning already! We should leave at once!” Aziraphale hadn’t notice that time, as usually time does, was still running while he and Crowley took turns to tell the story. So the angel is quite surprised when the first ray of sun hits Artemisia’s canvas.

“Ngk, if you say so...”

Sadly, the woman’s painting isn't finished yet. Actually, she has barely started! But they really have to leave, they can't be found in the workshop.

“Goodbye, my dear, and… buck up?” Aziraphale hesitantly greets her.

“Will you come back, tomorrow night?” Artemisia asks, “To go on with the story?”

“We probably shouldn't, I've got many assignments, you see…”

“Well, I’ll come for sure!” Crowley cuts in. “And without you, angel, I’ll be finally free to corrupt the girl with my demonic powers.”

“You wouldn't dare!”

“Am I or am I not a demon?”

“Right, if you put it like that… I must come here and thwart your wiles.”

Artemisia smiles, still facing the canvas. She isn’t sure if the two of them are a product of a dream, a vision or what but their presence and their story are somehow soothing. So she smiles. It is her first real smile since a while.


	3. The second day of siege

**587 B.C.**

The night before, Judith had been an impeccable host. She had offered them some food and some water to wash themselves, even if the city was running low. Aziraphale had been silent though, looking slightly displeased, embarrassed and worried. By watching him more closely, Crawly saw what he meant when he had said he hadn’t really made an effort. He was plump, as always, curly hair partially covered as it used among the women of that time but his figure was nor particularly masculine, nor particularly feminine, apart from the dress. Gender really wasn’t his cup of… whatever drink would be in his cup. Another thing which hadn’t changed was his expressiveness: from the set of his mouth, the demon could tell the angel was just waiting for the right moment to scold him. Which happened to be the next morning.

Crawly was out on the city walls early, partly to enjoy the dawn, partly to have a quiet place where to confront the angel, who appeared a second later beside him.

“What, for God’s sake, are you doing here, Crawly?”

“It’s Anutar in front of humans, by the way” the demon answered.

“Anutar? Interesting… What does it… Wait, I asked you a question, don’t try to change the subject!”

“Very well,” Crawly sighed, “Hell ordered me to help the Babylonians. You know, to piss Upstairs by fighting the chosen people. We got a hint that God wouldn't intervene this time and so… here I am.”

“That’s it, _here_ you are. Why did you leave the camp?” Aziraphale asked suspiciously.

Right. Why had he? The answer was actually in front of Crawly but the demon knew better than to say that.

 _The angel is probably going to be the end of me,_ he though, followed by, _His cup of… wine?_

Instead, he said “Err, I had to check you out, didn't I? And what if I tempted that Judith? She looks way too righteous.”

"Well, you will fail" Aziraphale pointed out, "I've never seen such a believer in God and a virtuous human being ever, I would dare say." Then, he hesitated and added, “Maybe you’d better go back to the Babylonian army before your people find out. When someone disobeys, they are known to punish them… thoroughly.”

“Bet it’s already too late. And you don't know my other wily plans. Very bad things.”

“Indeed. Are you making up excuses in order to stay?”

“Are you kidding? Why would I even do such a thing?”

The angel smiled, despite himself, and mouthed something which dangerously looked like _Because you missed me._

As agreed the day before, after the ring of the fourth bell, the city rulers met at Judith’s home. The reunion started with a very nervous Achior, who explained that Holofernes didn’t believe the Jews were invincible because their God would eventually intervene.

“This is preposterous!” one of the chiefs, Oziah, exclaimed. “Our Lord would not let us perish in disgrace, by the hand of some barbarian disbeliever!”

“It is already too late, Oziah. God won’t help us this time” Cabri said bitterly.

“That’s the problem” Judith cut in, before the third one, Carmi, could say anything else. “You are _demanding_ the intervention of God but our Lord is not to be ordered or even tempted into action by humans. You gave Him an ultimatum and so you sinned of hubris. God isn’t there to be summoned at will. We must _deserve_ His intervention by taking matters into our own hands. By demonstrating that we can be humble and courageous, not only for Him but for our whole people.”

Crawly smirked at Aziraphale’s side and whispered in his ear, “That woman doesn’t go around wasting her time for sure. I might even like her.”

“Yes,” the angel answered, too tense to smile, “She won’t let a man tell her what to do.”

“I admire your noble words, Judith,” Oziah was saying, “but words won’t save us. Have you got any concrete ideas?”

“No, I don’t,” the woman replied, “but I am thinking.”

The whole room went silent, the humans were all gloomy and weary. Even Aziraphale had no idea. And it was the reason why he was so surprised to hear Achior’s proposal: “I may have an idea, but you won’t like it. Holofernes is a haughty bastard. He already thinks he’s won. All he needs and wants now is some fun after his long military campaign. I hear he has a penchant for beautiful brunette women, if you know what I mean.” The Ammonite king ended his speech with a glance at Judith. Aziraphale and the three rulers gasped, outraged. But Judith’s expression was pensive. “It might be a good idea” she carefully pointed out.

“No, it is ridiculous, my dear” the angel cried out. “It’s inappropriate and dangerous, I can’t think of you in such a situation!”

“Your concern is appreciated, my maid, but think about it: we have no matching army, so a battle is out of the question. The only way is to trick Holofernes and Achior’s plan may actually work!”

Carmi and Cabri started yelling at the same moment, while Oziah leaned back in his chair, pale; Crawly just lifted an eyebrow, amazed. Eventually, it was Aziraphale who interrupted the heated discussion. “It’s true” he started, and the whole room went still. “It is no secret Holofernes is a man who… enjoys the pleasures of the flesh. We might convince him to leave Bethulia alone. And if we’re careful, no harm will come in our way.”

“Our?” Cabri weakly asked.

“Yes,” Aziraphale confirmed, “I’m going with her.”

The men were asked to leave for the preparation. 

“Good luck, Judith” Carmi whispered. “I’ll send word to the nearby villages. Maybe, if they know we’re ready to make our last stand, they’ll come.”

“Thank you, my friend. And remember, have faith.”

Then the woman retired to her rooms, where Aziraphale helped her to get ready. He prepared a bath for her, coated her body with perfumed oils and then adorned her with the softest linen and the most precious jewels he found around the house. Judith was already a beautiful woman but dressed like that she was striking and ravishing. A temptress. 

Aziraphale chose to keep up his humble attire. After all, he was supposed to be a simple servant, no one would look at him twice. 

The angel was gathering a flask of wine, some olive oil, toasted flour, dried figs and bread in a sack when Crawly found him and said out of nowhere, “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you are not” Aziraphale sighed. “Holofernes must have noticed you’ve gone with Achior. He’ll have you killed. Well, inconveniently discorporated.”

The demon seemed to reach for his arm but then thought better. “That man is dangerous, angel. You can’t…”

“I won’t let him harm me. Or Judith. After all, I _am_ the angel of the Eastern Gate. They didn’t give the job to the first fool they found around.”

“I know, I know. But what am I supposed to do here?”

“Didn’t you tell me you had some demonic plans going on?” Aziraphale chuckled. “My suggestion would be to keep a low profile but I’m not sure you can do that. Just, please, don’t go anywhere near that army, yes?”

“The wiles it is, then” Crawly answered with a forced smile. 

At that moment, Judith started praying. They heard her voice from outside. “My Lord, give me courage so that my heart will not falter. My Lord, give me resolve so that I won't give up my task. My Lord, give me strength when my words won't be enough to stop the Babylonian army. My Lord, give a sign so that I know I'm doing the right thing. May my maid and me be safe from all harm. Amen.”

Crawly had a bad feeling about Judith’s and the angel’s mission. And therefore, he wasn’t going to stay put for sure.

Judith and Aziraphale departed under the cover of darkness. They left the city using the secondary gate, to make it look like they were fleeting the doomed Bethulia, in the case Babylonian spies were watching. They had reached the outskirts of the war camp when two sentries stopped them. Aziraphale’s heart was wildly pounding in his chest but Judith looked calm as she declared, “I want to see your general.”

The soldiers escorted them to a majestic tent in the middle of the camp and led them inside (a little miracle might have helped vanishing their suspicions). Holofernes was there, bent on a map, encircled by his trusted officers.

“This woman wanted to see you, my general” one of the sentries explained. “She says she’s fleeting from Bethulia.”

Holofernes raised his eyes from the map he was studying. As soon as he took in Judith, his gaze turned ravenous and wandered on every inch of her body. “What do we have here” he murmured, stepping closer.

“I am Judith, mighty general, and I come here to ask for asylum.”

“I would be more than happy to defend such a beautiful woman from all harm” Holofernes said, “but may I ask why you decided to come to me, dear Judith?” 

The woman smiled shyly at the compliment and then explained, “The city of Bethulia is doomed and its fool people demanded that their God help them. But I know the Lord will not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I am a woman of faith, courageous Holofernes. Our God isn’t easy to please and He is prone to ire. And I know that the citizens of Bethulia have sullied themselves by eating impure food and by disrespecting our Lord.” Aziraphale felt Judith’s voice quiver and when he looked up at her, he saw that she was crying. The general was watching her too, ravished by her big sad eyes.

“Maybe it was all written in the Great Plan” she went on, “Maybe God knew they wouldn’t be respectful and sent your army to punish them. Or so I believe. I don’t want to die with them. That is why I’m here with my faithful maid. That is why I’m begging you for your help.”

She sank to her knees, crying, and Aziraphale imitated her. He was a bit taken aback by the emotions he felt flowing from Judith, so many that he couldn’t tell them apart.

Holofernes approached the woman and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do not worry, I swear I will protect you. Now, why don’t you tell us everything you know about Bethulia’s defences? And then you can eat and rest.”

Judith nodded, wiping her tears away and standing up. She took one of the general’s hands and let him lead her to the war table, to the map of the city. 

The angel couldn’t help but hope that the girl knew what she was doing.

It was very late when Crawly spotted Aziraphale and Judith leaving the war camp to find a quiet place where to pray. Of course they couldn’t go far but at least they were alone. The demon slithered toward them in snake form and waited for Judith to go a bit further and kneel somewhere to pray before brushing one of the angel’s feet with his body to have his attention.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in Bethulia?” Aziraphale whispered.

Crawly turned into his human form. “I wanted to see how you were doing. And tell you that I tempted a man to betray his wife.”

“How evil of you.” Was it sarcasm in the angel’s voice?

They were silent for a bit, gazing at the stars.

“You know,” Aziraphale said after a while, “I did some research.”

“Where did you find the time?” Crawly asked, restraining a smile. He found the angel’s hunger for knowledge almost… endearing. 

“I don't sleep, that's the secret. Anyway, I did some research on Anu, to be precise.”

The demon tensed. What was he getting at? Some scolding because he was acknowledging a pagan religion?

“Anu is one of the most important Mesopotamian deities. The Sky Father. He who hung the stars.”

“What about it?” Crawly asked, clenching his jaws. 

“Nothing. I mean, it’s just… you know, I figured it out by the way you always talk about the constellations and up there, the one who created them… Goodness!”

Crawly turned away from Aziraphale. He couldn’t bare the raw emotion pouring from him.

The angel took a deep breath and went on. “What I mean,” he said more slowly and… sweetly somehow, “is that I understand. Missing Heaven. Missing Her love. Missing how things were… before. I know I can't really compare, but still…”

“I regret nothing” Crawly uttered, harsher than intended.

“As you say” Aziraphale conceded. And then did something he never had done: he reached for Crawly and tentatively patted his shoulder. His hand rested there a bit longer than necessary.

“What was that?” the demon whispered.

“An encouraging gesture. Not that you need one, of course. Being evil and so on.”

“Right. You should work on it. It was more awkward if anything.”

And yet, at his very core, Crawly felt warmer.

## ***

**1612**

Crowley remembers quite fondly that moment. Maybe Aziraphale does too because, for a while, they take a pause from their story to simply dwell on that memory.

“He who hung the stars” Artemisia whispers in a dreamy tone.

“Yeaaaaah,” Crowley concedes, suddenly embarrassed. “Not a big deal, really.”

“My dear boy, do take some credit sometimes! Your stars-”

“Ough, angel, don’t. I’m a demon, I don’t need compliments.”

“I think that everyone needs a compliment every now and then” Artemisia casually says.

Aziraphale chuckles. “You are right, my dear! By the way, your painting is starting to look nice! Judith didn’t wear exactly those clothes but-”

“It doesn’t matter, angel. Good work, girl” Crowley interrupts him.

Now it’s the painter’s turn to laugh. “Tell me what happened next” she demands, starting to work on the maid’s features. She almost asks Aziraphale to pose for her but she decides it’s better not to. She bets the angel (by now, she has realized that Crowley calls Aziraphale ‘angel’ for more than one reason) wouldn’t be able to stand still longer than a moment.


	4. The third day of siege

**587 B.C.**

Aziraphale spent a restless night. Holofernes had gifted them with a private tent and the promise to be left alone but the angel couldn't help but jolt at every suspicious noise. But eventually he must have dozed off (it usually did not happen, it must have been all that stress) because he was jerked awake by a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“My dear Azaria, have you been sitting there the whole night?”

The angel mumbled an apology of some sort, which earned him Judith’s laugh. A silvery laugh, with which she could have charmed anybody. She was simply astonishing, the first ray of sunshine after a storm. No wonder everybody liked her in Bethulia. Even Aziraphale was fascinated: he had rarely met such an inspiring human.

“Apparently, Holofernes had a bath readied for me. The Babylonians dragged a giant tub all the way here. And they spent the whole night gathering and warming the water… Would you like to take a bath?”

“W-what?” Aziraphale babbled. “But you are my mistress, I... just _can’t-_ ”

“Come on, I insist. I already took one yesterday, I really don’t feel like it and I guess that with the water shortage you didn’t get any chance lately. Don’t make me order you.” Judith’s voice was gentle, but she wouldn’t accept a no as an answer. So Aziraphale weakly nodded and followed her to the tent where the tub had been readied. She smiled at the guards before entering, asking politely to be left alone.

Thanks to the Almighty, there was a paravent inside, so that the angel could undress unseen. There wasn’t anything to see, really, no effort made after all, but weren’t angels supposed to be prudish and everything? 

Judith waited until he was soaking in the tub, the foam so dense it concealed everything that, in Aziraphale’s opinion, needed concealing. When the deed was done, he exhaled heavily and finally relaxed; he had never tried such a thing (he didn’t need to clean his body as humans did) but… but it almost felt like bathing in the clouds… 

His mistress took the sigh as a signal that she could finally turn and sit beside the tub. And start a conversation.

“So. Tell me about you and Anutar. Are you two friends?” 

Aziraphale blushed and shook his head furiously. “What? No! We’re not friends!”

Judith gave him a pointed look. “Lovers, then? Don't deny it, it’s evident you know each other. And I won't judge, you know.”

The angel took a deep breath. Judith had always been a keen observer. “We’re not lovers but you are right, I do know him. We grew up in the same... village. It is quite funny, now that I think about it: no matter how far we travel but somehow we always end up meeting.”

“I think it’s amazing. And sweet” Judith winked, but before he could protest, she went on. “He’s a fixed point in your life. I would like to have something similar. I thought it would be my husband, but he died. So Bethulia took his place. But… it’s not the same, you know. I love my city and everyone there respects me but I wanted something more… more…”

“Intimate” Aziraphale finished for her. He very well knew the feeling himself.

“Yes, intimate. Do you think it’s a sin to want something like that so badly? Only for me?”

“Oh, my dear Judith. Not at all! We all need someone at our side, friend or lover or family.”

“And Anutar is that someone for you?”

She wouldn't drop it, would she? “I suppose he is” Aziraphale sighed. “We aren't so different after all. But… don't tell him! I wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise.”

They didn't talk for a while. Then Judith whispered, “Do you think I’m… doing the right thing here?”

“Holofernes is surely intrigued by you. You may persuade him to let Bethulia alone.”

“But he would go to Jerusalem anyway. We can't allow that. I’m not sure this will be enough.”

Judith was staring at the tent’s ceiling, brow furrowed.

“What else would you do? You are only a woman. Well, there are two of us, but the point still stands.”

“I really don’t know. But maybe… No, that’s silly…” she trailed off, a lost expression on her face.

“We still have time, my dear” he reassured her. “We still have time.”

Crawly felt helpless and terribly frustrated. Demons weren’t supposed to feel helpless (because they weren’t supposed to _help_ anyone, you know). They could feel frustrated but not for the reasons why Crawly was. Moreover, he was also trying not to drown in the negative emotions of Bethulia’s human inhabitants. Everyone was incredibly tense, fearful, hopeless. No space for temptation, no space for little acts of mischief. Just grim faces. He had considered the possibility to leave many times but honestly, until the angel was in the Babylonian camp, he couldn’t even phantom the idea of going away. Eyes on the opposition and stuff. What if Aziraphale converted the whole enemy army? The demon should definitely be in the area to spread some evil, shouldn’t he.

In order to avoid the people in the streets and the frightened stares of the children, Crawly had decided to settle on the city walls, where he could see both Bethulia and the Babylonians. He sat up there, motionless, for most part of the day, until Achior came to talk to him. “The birds we sent with our request of help have come back, bearing no answer. If Judith doesn’t convince Holofernes to leave… we are doomed.”

“To _leave?_ ” Crawly cackled. He had noticed that Judith was a beautiful woman, desired by sooo many people throughout the city (even by two of the city leaders. I won’t say names. Just that they begin with letter C), but really, did they truly think she could talk him out of it? Fools. The hope and fate of an entire city rested on a fool’s gamble.

The two of them didn’t talk for a while. Then Achior asked, “So, how did you and Azaria meet?”

Crawly flinched, frowned and then replied with another question. “Why do you think we know each other?”

“Oh, come on! It’s obvious. Your sidelong glances. Her falsely disapproving frowns…”

“Do you really think… she disapproves only _falsely_?” 

“I guess so, she smiles when you look away. You must be very worried that she’s down there.”

Right, there was no time to fantasize: Aziraphale was still in danger and their fate rested on Judith’s and Achior’s ridiculous plan. Crawly happened to have a better idea. Only, he wasn’t sure he could convince the woman to carry it out. And neither to have the angel’s approval. It probably would have endangered their… relationship, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

Judith took her time to prepare. She sat an hour in front of the mirror to wear some makeup and to let Azaria comb and braid her long hair. Lastly, she put on a dress of the finest and softest silk, so thin it clung to her every curve. Judith was terribly aware of how sacrilegious it was but… Holofernes wouldn’t fall for a saint, that had been obvious from the very beginning. She prayed that the soul of her husband may forgive her and then left her tent to reach the general’s. 

The distance wasn’t long but the path seemed endless. Judith could feel the stare of every soldier she passed raving on her body, drinking her in. For a moment, she thought she would stop, that she couldn’t do it. Then, Azaria was at her side and suddenly, the men were looking at her no more. For a moment, she could have sworn a faint light radiated from her maid but in a blink, the illusion was gone.

As Judith finally reached Holofernes's tent, a sort of heavenly calm had descended on her. She felt resolute and courageous, fear gone as it had been miracled away. She stepped in with a sweep of hips and let her eyelashes flutter as she met the general’s stare, while ignoring the other people there, servants and officers alike. A red-haired and red-dressed woman, who was leaning toward the Babylonian leader to speak in his ear, paused her whispering to give her a pointed look.

“Judith, you look beautiful as a goddess! I’m so glad you accepted my invitation to eat with me.”

“Thank you, my general. May I ask if this food is pure?”

“Of course, it’s as you requested. I could do no less for such a remarkable woman.”

Judith smiled brightly and took the seat at the general’s side, the one just vacated by the other woman, who left without even a goodbye. The officers followed Judith's example and sat down at the table; the servants brought in the meal. The food was impressive: fruit and vegetables coated in honey, different kinds of meat, bread with olives and some courses Judith couldn’t even name.

The meal went on forever. Judith didn’t eat a lot but made sure to brush Holofernes’s ankle every now and then, to touch his hand when she pretended to laugh at his stupid jokes. She also told them about the weaknesses of Bethulia because an officer had asked her to. She felt terribly bad but… earning their trust was the only thing she could do. If she failed, she hoped her fellow citizens would forgive her. Because, she realized with a flinch, she would survive them. She would stand at the enemy’s side as her city would be sacked by the Babylonian army.

Judith started to smile more, to be more charming. She had just one chance and she wouldn’t fail.

Holofernes couldn’t tear his gaze from Judith. The woman was not only beautiful but also charming. He was sure that she was attracted to him but… she still kept some distance, not like the red woman, who constantly clung at him. He wondered why for the whole meal. And then he realized that he hadn’t gifted her anything. Women at his king’s court loved jewels. Judith would be the same.

So, that afternoon, Holofernes retired in his tent, alone, and opened a trunk which contained the gold and jewels pilfered in the cities previously conquered. Only the most precious one would do for the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

As the sun went to sleep, Crawly left the city in snake form. He reached the outskirts of the Babylonian camp and waited for Judith and Aziraphale to go to pray. But when he saw them, he didn’t go for the angel. No, he went for Judith. Before approaching her, he made sure Aziraphale was out of earshot and then slithered to where she knelt in the dirt, eyes closed. He kept his snake form: it had already worked once with Eve. It would work again.

_Ssss Judith,_ he hissed in her ear.

The woman didn’t open her eyes. “Yes” she whispered.

_Judith, ssss. I can feel your doubt, Judith._

“Yes” she confirmed.

_Do you want to sssave your people, Judith? I can tell you how…_

“Yes. Please tell me. I would do _anything_.”

_You must…_ Crawly started but then felt a burning heat and next thing he knew, he was thrown a good twenty feet away from the girl.

“Judith, my dear, it’s time to go back to the camp. Holofernes has invited you to join him after our prayers. It wouldn’t be wise to let him wait.” Aziraphale’s voice was tense as he said this.

“Oh, I… all right. I’ll go” Judith answered, sounding a bit confused.

As she left, the angel marched towards him. Despite the pain, Crawly turned into his human form, hissing as he examined his bruised arms. Had Aziraphale just _smitten_ him? Just slightly, apparently, but still….

“How _dare_ you, Crawly? How dare you try to tempt _my_ ward? I thought we had an agreement to stay out of each other’s work! And you just… _slithered_ to… I _can’t…_ ”

“It’s our only possibility, angel! Your stupid plan won’t work!” the demon hissed.

“ _Your_ only possibility, maybe!”

“Don’t you see that a pretty face isn’t enough to stop the Babylonians? Holofernes must be taken down!”

“Violence is not always the answer!”

“Neither being always _nice_ is!” 

“You are right,” Aziraphale conceded, “I should have _never_ been nice to you!”

Crawly barely managed to hold in a gasp. “And I guess I should have never…” he started but… but really, there was nothing he regretted. Nothing. “I guess I should just leave now, leave you to a certain doom. You won’t see me-”

“TRESPASSER!”

Both Aziraphale and Crawly jumped, taken aback. They turned toward the voice: a sentry had seen them. No, not only one: ten more reached him, pointing their weapons at the demon. And at Aziraphale. So Crawly did the only thing he could think about in that moment: he drew a knife from his robe and, in a fast movement, held it at the angel’s throat.

Aziraphale felt the bite of the metal on his skin before he could process what was actually going on. The Babylonian soldiers were pointing their swords at them. And Crawly was holding him close, an arm around his middle and a knife at his throat. For a moment, time seemed to stop for everyone but them, a moment in which Aziraphale was painfully aware of where their bodies touched, of the demon’s essence, of the strange intimacy of that gesture. He also had the impression of Crawly’s serpent tongue flickering near his ear, to tell him something, but time didn’t hold back and the men were shouting at them again. It was only then that he realized that Crawly was holding him hostage.

“What, for God’s sake-” he started but the demon interrupted him, shouting: “Step back or I’ll kill the whore’s maid!”

“Let her go and maybe we’ll let you live!” was the sentries’ answer.

Crawly backed a few steps, his body tense, ready to make a run for it. Then, an arrow appeared out of nowhere, sinking into his exposed shoulder. The demon let go of him, without leaving even a scratch on Aziraphale’s skin, and fell to the ground with a grunt. Aziraphale instinctively stumbled forward, then felt a rise of demonic power… which immediately died out. He watched in a sort of trance as the soldiers reached them and got hold of Crawly. 

Who, the angel realised in that moment, had put up a scene to protect Aziraphale. Who could not escape because Aziraphale had just smitten him.

They chained him, then beat him and insulted him. But he couldn’t do anything. Aziraphale probably hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he surely had drained his energies when he had smitten him. And so he was helpless, helpless in front of some humans. When they were finally finished, he curled in a ball and laid motionless on the floor of his cell. He could feel he was still bleeding but had no strength to heal himself. He didn’t know how much time passed but then he heard Holofernes’s voice: “So, Anutar. You betrayed us. I’m not surprised, mind you, but still… Your execution shall be a treat for my soldiers.”

Crawly raised his head slightly, just enough to look the general into his eyes. His yellow stare was usually enough to intimidate anyone. “You cannot kill me, human. I’m not a mortal as you are.”

“I suspected as much,” Holofernes told him, “and I took precautions. You know, I never trusted you. A dear friend of mine mentioned that you might have been lying about being one of Anu’s priests. She suggested you might be some kind of foul creature. I’m lucky that she also knew where to find this… peculiar weapon.”

The man drew his sword which, after a couple of seconds, ignited on its own. Crawly’s eyes widened in fear. 

The general chuckled. “As I thought: this weapon can truly kill you.”

Judith had heard the screaming and had ran back to Azaria. She had seen what had happened with Anutar. She had noticed the complete fear on her face. And she had understood that the priest of Anu meant no harm to the poor woman.

Judith had run to her, embraced her before Azaria could do something stupid and get all of them killed. She had accompanied her maid back to their tent and had served her a cup of spiced wine which was meant for herself.

Azaria sat very still, ignoring the cup, staring at nothing. Then, suddenly, she met Judith’s stare. “He has my flaming sword” she said. “He can kill him with it. What have I done” she added in a whisper.

“I…” Judith started, but was interrupted by someone, entering their tent.

“You and your maid are safe now” Holofernes announced proudly.

The woman reluctantly stepped away from Azaria and faced the general. “You are so brave. Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if Azaria had gotten hurt.”

She hesitated, then cleared her throat loudly. Her maid snapped her eyes on her as Judith asked, “Would you mind if I came to your tent, tonight? I would feel safer.”

Holofernes nodded, a wolfish grin on his lips, took her hand and led her out of the tent.

Before being dragged away, Judith casted a meaningful glance at Azaria. She hoped her maid would understand. And be very careful.

## ***

**1612**

The silence that follows this piece of the story is heavy. Artemisia notices the gloomy expressions of her muses and decides she must diverge their attention on something more pleasant. She rummages her mind in search of something to ask and, after some thinking, realizes that some of their story’s details don’t match with what she knew about the Book of Judith.

“Wasn’t Bethulia attacked by the Assyrian, by the way?” she inquiries.

Crowley is the first one to recover. “Nah. It was the Babylonians. The Assyrians were already in decline by then.”

“Alright, but in the Bible they say it was the Assyrians. And there was no priest of Anu mentioned anywhere.”

“Well, it’s a funny story” Aziraphale cuts in. “One of the city rulers, Oziah if I remember correctly, decided to write Judith’s story some months after the siege. He thought some details were useless. And he probably didn’t like Crowley, no offense my dear boy.”

“And he turned the Babylonians into the Assyrian?”

“Oh no, that was the first translator. They thought that the Assyrians were more frightening than the Babylonians…”

Crowley snorts, amused. The demon knows that inaccurate history reports annoy the angel beyond measure.

“And what about your role? There’s not much about the maid too” Artemisia asks.

“Well, that is my fault. When Judith and I told what had happened to the others, we left out the more, er…, divine details. It’s better this way, I suppose.”

Artemisia nods and then smiles at the two of them. “Then I’m happy that you are telling me the whole true story.”


	5. The fourth day of siege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of the violence

**587 B.C.**

As the night carried on, unconcerned by any human, ethereal or occult matter, the two sentries which were guarding the prisoner’s cell suddenly felt very sleepy. Therefore, Aziraphale had no problem sneaking in.

When he laid eyes on Crawly, he had to reign in a cry. His skin was bruised and scorched everywhere, his robe in tatters. Dark blood was still leaking from some wounds. And it was only Aziraphale’s fault. As he approached the cage, Crawly stirred and let out a pained noise. His eyes were blurred… Could he even recognise the angel?

“It’s me” Aziraphale whispered, sitting beside him. The demon finally focused his stare on him and scoffed, “Why are you here, to gloat?”

“Crawly,” Aziraphale sighed, “you should know that I don't gloat. No, I’m here because I… because I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence in which Aziraphale fumbled with his dress and Crawly stared at nothing, trying to understand if he was hallucinating. When he decided he wasn't, the demon spoke again. “It’s not your fault angel-”

“It _is._ And Holofernes has my flaming sword. He can really kill you with it.”

“I know.”

“And I can't help you escape because, after the smiting, Upstairs eyes are on me. If I used my powers and they saw you here, defenceless…”

Aziraphale trailed off, incapable of finishing the horrible thought. 

“I know,” Crawly whispered again, “and moreover Holofernes would immediately suspect of you. And it’s something you and Judith can’t afford right now.” His voice was so soft and fragile that the angel finally decided to do what he had gone there for. He knelt in front of the cage and fished some supplies from a bag he had brought with him. “I have also come to… heal you. Or try to. With human methods. It’s the most I can do…”

Aziraphale looked up at Crawly and saw his puzzled expression, which compelled him to explain himself. “I know how these things work, I read many books about healing and…”

“It’s fine, angel,” the demon interrupted him, “I just… didn't expect such a thing. Please, do what you must.”

Aziraphale smiled, relieved, and reached beyond the bars with a cool cloth in his hands. Crawly wiggled closer and let the angel clean his wounds and then apply some kind of salve. The angel worked in silence, his mouth slightly open in concentration. The demon would have probably dozed off if he hadn't been too focused on Aziraphale, too aware of his gentle fingers brushing his bruised and sensitive skin.

When the angel was finished, he didn't step back immediately. No, he put away his supplies and then reached for Crawly again, this time to brush the demon’s red hair away from his face. Crawly, to be honest, hadn't even noticed the rebel strand until that moment. He leaned into the touch, locking eyes with Aziraphale.

“Why is it,” the angel whispered, “that we meet always in troubled occasions? Why can't we just...?”

Crawly interrupted him with a chuckle, before he could pose a very dangerous question for them both. “It’s ineffable, angel, remember? You told me yourself.”

“It doesn't mean that I like it.”

“Next time we’ll meet for lunch. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds perfect, my dear boy.” _My dear boy._ That was a new thing, wasn't it?

They stayed together for a while but eventually Aziraphale had to go. Before leaving, he pulled Crawly closer and, through the bars, kissed him softly on his forehead. “Goodbye. Please, stay safe” he whispered into his hair. 

“I promise, angel. I promise.”

Judith had spent the whole night in Holofernes’s tent. Luckily, his officers wouldn't let them alone because they wanted to celebrate the capture of Anutar the traitor and because they wanted to define the last details of the imminent battle. The red woman was there too: many officers couldn’t tear their gaze from her; Holofernes, though, didn’t look at her twice, he was too busy drooling over Judith. He even gifted her a golden necklace adorned with gemstones which she found too tacky but had to wear nonetheless. But the jewel wasn’t the worst thing she had to stand: every now and then, the general would touch in a too intimate way, or even try to kiss her. She let him, feeling nauseous. And also scared, because that was to be her life if she failed. She smiled for the whole night but inside she was screaming. 

As the sun finally woke up, Holofernes turned to her. “You should get some sleep. Tonight, we must celebrate and I want you at my side.”

“Yes, you are right, my general.” Judith hesitated a moment, a bit afraid of asking about Anutar. But she could do no less for her brave maid, so she swallowed her fear and demanded, “May I ask you what will be the traitor’s fate?”

“I’m going to execute him today. To cheer my troops a bit up” the horrible man grinned.

Judith nodded but then added in a pensive voice, “You know, I think you should wait tomorrow morning, when the battle will start. Execute him in front of Bethulia’s walls. The people there are already terrified but losing the man who was their last hope to escape you… it'll break their spirits completely.”

There was a moment of silence in which she thought she had talked too much and that Holofernes had finally uncovered her double play. Then, the general laughed. “You are really a clever thing! I’ll do as you say if…,” and he dragged her onto his lap, to continue to whisper in her ear, “... if you spend the next night with me.”

“It will be my pleasure, Holofernes.”

The man grinned, satisfied, and let her go. “We have a deal, then. Go to rest. I can't wait to see you tonight.”

Judith didn't know how she was able to walk from the general’s tent to hers without crying. But when she was finally alone, she broke. She broke completely.

Aziraphale found Judith laid on her bed, silently crying.

“Oh goodness!” he exclaimed and rushed to her side. He held her hand until she calmed herself.

“Azaria,” she eventually whispered, “I’m lost. I don't know what to do. They will kill Anutar and my people tomorrow. I failed.”

The angel felt a pang of pain but Judith couldn't see that he was also doubting. “Failing… failing can happen. We just… have to try again, yes.”

“But… but…”

“We will escape tonight” Aziraphale decided. “We will pretend to pray and flee to the city. And there we will make our last stand. Maybe some… _friends_ of mine will come. Yes. We can do it.”

“What about Anutar?” Judith whispered.

“I’ll find a way to free him. I am more resourceful than I look.”

Judith nodded. “It’s all right. But before fleeing… Holofernes wants something from me.” Her voice trembled and she started crying again.

“Oh my… you don't have to… we’ll leave before…”

“We can't. He will look for me if he doesn't… get what he wants, and we won't make it to the city. We must flee… after...”

“I can't bear the thought of you in his clutches!”

Judith gulped but then wiped away her tears. “I can. But we must plan it very carefully.”

So Aziraphale and Judith spent the whole morning planning.

The atmosphere was tenser than ever in the city. Most people had barricaded inside their homes while the few soldiers gathered in the main square to prepare. There were also some volunteers among the commoners: women, elders and even some children who offered whatever help they could give: cook some food, bring water around, tend to the wounded when the time would have come. Achior and Carmi counted the soldiers one last time, very well aware that they were overwhelmed.

“No answer from the villages nearby?” the Ammonite king asked.

“Not a word I’m afraid.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We wouldn’t agree: Oziah thinks we should surrender, Cabri can’t decide and I believe we should fight, even if God won’t help us.”

“And so?” Achior asked.

“We’ll have the people here decide” Carmi answered.

Then, the ruler left the Ammonite king’s side to join the other two leaders. Together, they stood in front of the crowd, which went still and silent.

“My beloved citizens. We stand on the verge of a great and deadly battle” Oziah explained, his voice strong despite everything. “Tomorrow morning, the enemy will strike for sure: they know we are few, they know we have no more supplies, they know we are frightened. Nonetheless, a choice must be made.”

“We ask you, our people, to decide the fate of this city” Carmi went on. “Should we surrender, knowing we are tremendously outnumbered, and accept the shame of defeat; or should we fight, armed with courage and the love for Bethulia?”

“We know it is no easy choice,” Cabri declared, “but we want to know what you want: fight for our freedom and our God and perish; or surrender and live with the shame forever?”

The people were grim while they contemplated their options. Oziah waited a couple of minutes before speaking again. “Those who want to fight raise their hands.”

Just a few hands raised.

“Those who want to surrender raise their hands.”

Almost everyone did. 

Carmi felt tears streaking his face. He was furious but he understood. They had families. Children. If they fought, they would have been slaughtered.

“The people have spoken. Tomorrow we shall surrender.”

In a shadowed corner of the square, a dark-skinned man smiled, savouring not only the people’s despair, but also their hunger. Food had almost run out and, once the Babylonian army made its move, the city would be left with nothing. Then, he would lurk through Bethulia’s streets and take what was his by right.

Crawly thought that things could hardly go any worse. He was still too weak to perform any demonic miracle and, even if Aziraphale had done his best, his wounds still hurt. Not to count his imminent execution.

Of course he was wrong. He realised it when he smelled sulphur in the air. Crawly raised his eyes and found a grinning Ligur in front of him. “Well, what do we have here.”

“Ligur. How long. It’s a displeasure to meet you here.”

“I was sent to see how you were doing. Horribly, it seems.”

“Do not worry,” Crawly hissed, “it’s all part of my plan.”

“As it was mingling with that angel?”

Crawly went very still. He tried to keep it cool as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“We received a report about a rise of angelic power, in the area more or less where you were. And yet, you are still alive. How so?”

“The bloody angel hit me hard and left me for dead,” he lied, “But he also blew up my cover within the humans. That’s why I’m here.”

“What a lucky bastard” Ligur grinned. “Anyway, Lord Beelzebub ordered me to let you in your misery. If you survive, good. If you don’t, even better. But let me warn you, Crawly. We don’t trust you. We’ll be watching you.”

With these words, Ligur left in a sulfuric cloud. Crawly shrank back on the dirty floor. He was so tired. So tired of everything.

As soon as Judith left her tent to take a stroll, Aziraphale drew a rudimental communication circle in the dirt and hoped an angel would pick up his call to Upstairs. He was lucky: after only a few seconds, the circle lit itself and an ethereal voice resonated in the tent. 

_Aziraphale. To what do we owe the pleasure?_

“Sandalphon! Is that you?”

_Yes, Aziraphale, it is me._

“Perfect! I… I don’t know if you have been monitoring the situation down here, but things aren’t going well for our side, I’m afraid.”

_Our side?_

“Yes? I mean the city of Bethulia, of course. The good ones.”

_… Your work was commendable, Aziraphale, but you must know that Heaven no longer affiliates with Bethulia._

“What???”

_Its people have decided to surrender. We will not support such an unworthy lot._

“WAIT! There is still a chance-”

Aziraphale had no time to explain his plan because the communication channel was cut off. 

He couldn’t believe it: Heaven wouldn’t help him _again._ He sighed, “So, in the end, Bethulia is truly lost.”

Judith was walking around the camp, trying to calm her nerves when a woman came to stand in her path. Not just any woman, but the red-dressed mistress, the one she had met in Holofernes’s tent.

“You are really a curious thing, aren’t you” she said, without even introducing herself.

“Excuse me?” Judith answered. She had a strange feeling about that woman, something about her was simply… off.

“I mean, the general was almost completely mine when you came along. What are you, Peace?”

The woman chuckled, like she had just said an amusing joke. 

Judith didn’t laugh and raised a brow. “I won’t let you bother me further. Goodbye.” She walked back to her tent and somehow, she knew she had done the right thing. She had almost reached it when she heard that Azaria was speaking with someone inside. She heard everything. So no one would help, not even Azaria’s… Aziraphale’s friends. It was up to her now. And she knew what she had to do.

Judith wore Holofernes’s necklace that night and a sweet perfumed oil. Last thing last, she wore a mask, the mask of the sensual mistress. Her maid looked at her with wide eyes.

“Tonight, I will sin, Azaria” she told her. “I hope it won't compromise our relationship.”

Azaria gulped and then produced a trembling smile. “ _Whoever walks in integrity walks securely,_ or so they say. I’m not worried about your soul, Judith, but about you whole. Just be careful, yes?”

Judith beamed as well. “I will. I’ll meet you outside my tent after… after the banquet. Good luck, Azi-... Azaria.”

She was gone before her maid – or better, her warden angel, she guessed – could stop her.

Aziraphale waited for the banquet to begin and then proceeded with their plan. The first part was quite easy: he arrived at a sentry’s back, put him to sleep with a little miracle and took his armour. For precaution, he sent the young man back home: he had seen in his mind that he didn't really want to fight, anyway. Then he crept to the tent where Crawly was kept prisoner and did quick work with those guards too. Knowing that Heaven wouldn't intervene made everything easier.

He found the demon curled against the farthest edge of the cage, his face concealed by his knees and long hair. “Crawly,” Aziraphale whispered, “Crawly!”

“Have you come to say farewell, angel?” his friend answered, without lifting his head.

“Always so dramatic, my dear boy. No, I’ve come to rescue you.”

Finally, Crawly looked at him and Aziraphale understood why he hadn't moved before: his yellow eyes were rimmed with red. He had been crying. The angel chose to ignore the detail in that moment and produced the cage’s key.

“Didn't we decide that it was too dangerous? That your colleagues would come down here and… well… you know.”

“They won't come, Crawly” Aziraphale sighed. “I asked for their help in the battle of tomorrow. The answer was that they don't care anymore. So… I took things into my hands. Truly.”

He underlined his words by putting the key in the lock and opening the cage. A snap of his fingers and also the chains were gone.

Crawly stood up, massaging his wrists. “What now? You know that I can't still use my powers… “

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, distractedly waving his hand at the demon, whose skin suddenly wasn't irritated anymore. “Yes, that’s why I brought a disguise. Here you are, wear this.”

The demon put on the armour, a bit stiffly. At first, Aziraphale just stood by, a bit awkwardly, but eventually let out some sort of snort and approached to help him. His hands made quick work of all the buckles and thingies the damned armour had everywhere.

“What now?” Crawly asked.

“Now you follow me. We go for Judith and then leave. Tomorrow… we will worry later about tomorrow.”

“What an accurate plan.”

“Are you or aren't you out of that cage? Now, follow me. It’s better if we stay hidden: the Babylonians think they have already won but won't be beyond suspicion.”

Crawly dutifully followed Aziraphale out of the cage’s tent. It was already dark outside, so they shouldn't have had problems while walking across the camp. They had almost made it when a sentry spotted them.

“Who’s there?” an inquisitive voice asked.

Aziraphale turned, a bit panicked, to face the unexpected threat. 

“What are you doing here? There should be just me” the guard added.

“Well, hello! We, err, we are… you know…” the angel babbled.

The soldier approached, a suspicious frown on his face. Aziraphale was clearly out of options, so Crawly did the first thing which came up in his mind: he drew the angel closer, took his chin in one hand, holding him close with the other and… leaned down to kiss him.

At first, Aziraphale gasped, surprised, and went motionless. But then, Crawly felt the angel’s fingers resting lightly on his hips, lips opening just slightly, tentatively.

“Yes. Riiight. I’ll leave you two… alone, I guess.”

He didn't know for how long they kissed, they stopped only when they were sure that the guard had left, nowhere to be seen.

“That was… That was…” Aziraphale babbled.

“Close?” Crawly suggested, knowing that it wasn't the word the angel was looking for. In fact, he was rewarded with a frown.

“You snake. You know… I could have miracled him away.”

The demon cringed at Aziraphale’s pretentious obliviousness and uttered in a shrug, “Thought you might want to save your power for tomorrow.”

“How _thoughtful_ ” the angel replied, though Crawly surely noticed his not-so-much-hidden smirk. And that he didn’t part immediately.

“Well now,” Aziraphale eventually whispered, “We should really go. Poor Judith will be waiting for us.”

“Ye-yeah, of course.” Crawly would have never admitted it but, for a moment, he had forgotten that they were still in the middle of a war.

Judith filled Holofernes’s cup with wine once again. It was a very flavourful red wine, pilfered from one of the cities the general had conquered. How fitting it was for that particular evening. Judith drank too, but just a few sips. She needed to be a bit bolder but still aware of everything she did. She was also more charming than ever, saying a nice word to every officer but being unmistakably softer for their leader. She found it easier without the red woman around, who had apparently disappeared after their awkward conversation. 

So Judith spent the whole evening smiling, making sure his plate was always full of the best portion of food that was served. She didn't eat much herself, though. It would probably be just a waste. 

Finally, her time came. Holofernes, satiated and drunk, got up and announced, “My friends. To-tonight I am to be leeeeft alone. You know, huh,” he winked, pointing at Judith, “I’ll be busy. Business. Make sure your men don't… poke around.” Everyone laughed, reassuring the general that the two of them would be left alone. So Judith took his hand and led him to her tent. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest but she didn't falter. They entered and stood motionless for a moment, one in front of the other.

Then, Holofernes chuckled and took off his sword belt, putting it on the edge of the bed, and then tossed his shirt away. He approached Judith and tugged at her cape. Her hair fell free on her back and the general leaned in to kiss her neck. His breath smelled of alcohol. Judith let him but after a while clicked her tongue. Holofernes met her gaze. “Let me” she whispered, nudging him towards the bed, where he obediently sat, lost at the sight of her.

Judith knelt and pulled out his shoes, kissed one of his knees, then the other. Finally, she stood, to push him against the mattress. This way, his sword rested just above his head. Judith climbed in his lap and bent down to kiss him, once, twice. She felt his greedy hands touching her everywhere but still she managed to reign the nauseous feeling that touch caused.

As he felt him completely relax under her, she parted their lips and confided, “This is the best day of my life.” As Holofernes dumbly smiled at her, Judith moved, swift as an asp, took his sword and pointed it at his neck. She saw the surprise on his face. But she didn't see a knife he had drawn from God knows where, aimed at her side.

Everything happened so fast. One moment, Aziraphale, Crowley just behind him, was peeking through the tent’s flaps, listening to Judith saying those strange words, “This is the best day of my life”, the next she had a sword in her hands, _his_ flaming sword. The angel felt the girl’s hesitation. And glimpsed Holofernes’s knife. He knew the man would be faster. So he acted following his instinct, even if deep down he knew he wouldn't be quick enough to save her. So he desperately launched himself forwards. But then, something strange happened. He heard Crowley taking a sharp breath and soon after time _stopped._ This once, he knew for sure. Time stopped for only a couple of seconds for everyone but the angel and the demon. It was enough, though: Aziraphale was immediately at Judith’s side to snatch away the knife and hold the general against the mattress. The moment of hesitation passed and Judith sank the sword in Holofernes’s neck.

Crawly looked as the blade cut clean through tender flesh. He looked at the blood which sprayed on Judith’s face and on Aziraphale’s tunic. He looked as Holofernes body gave the last spasms and his head rolled down the bed, staining the refined carpet on the floor. Maybe he had lost too much blood himself, maybe it was because he was pushing himself too hard, but he suddenly felt the urge to laugh. He had gone through so much trouble to tempt the girl to get rid of Holofernes, failed but then she had ended up doing it _all by herself,_ no demonic intervention needed. Ah, humans. Clever, insidious little creatures.

Then the moment of hilarity passed and he stumbled towards Aziraphale, who looked positively shocked, petrified in his place. “Azira- Azaria” he called but stopped a few feet away. Judith still held onto the flaming sword. She was staring, fascinated, at Holofernes’s head. He could feel she was contemplating all the possibilities that sword gave her, and they weren't pleasant. A couple of silent seconds passed, then she stated in a plain voice, “Now we will all die.”

“No” Crawly said, finally earning her attention.

“Yes” she insisted, “we are in a camp full of soldiers and I just killed their leader. As soon as they find it out, we are dead.”

Aziraphale, who was still holding back the general’s body, didn't move a muscle but his mouth, which was opening and closing, no sound coming out.

“No” Crawly repeated. “You went to pray every night. Tonight, it won't be any different. We’ll tell the guards that I’m coming with you two, as an escort after the events of last night. And not to disturb the general's sleep.”

“It won't work” Judith replied but then put away the sword and proceeded to wipe her hands and face clean with the bed sheet. She gently nudged Aziraphale away from the body and took one of her long capes to conceal the blood on his clothes. “Thank you, my angel” she whispered, once finished. Aziraphale’s eyes finally focused on her. “What?” he murmured, but Judith had already turned back to observe the severed head. Crawly, even if slightly puzzled himself, took advantage of the moment to reach for the angel’s hand and squeeze it gently. There was no time to dwell on what was already done. They needed to be gone.

“We should go” he told them.

“Yes, just a moment” Judith said. First she secured the flaming sword at her waist, concealing it with her long robes, then, after a second glance, she took a bag and put Holofernes’s head into it. Crawly was so confused (and also a bit intrigued) that all he could do was raise an eyebrow.

Judith chuckled darkly. “I know, it’s gross, but it may help Bethulia’s... morale.”

“You are full of surprises, aren't you?” the demon commented. 

The girl simply snorted and, without another word, headed out of the tent.

Crawly followed her, dragging Aziraphale along, into the dark, oblivious night.

## ***

**1612**

“So… you snogged.”

Artemisia’s comment breaks a silence full of emotion, startling both angel and demon.

“Yes!” Crowley grins. “No!” Aziraphale exclaims in the same moment. The painting is almost finished by now. It lacks only the details. But they still have time.

The girl raises an eyebrow, “I must admit, I’m confused.”

“It’s a thingy of his. Denial.”

“My dear boy, please! Do I have to make you remember that you left the day after the battle? Without saying a single word to me? I thought… I thought you had decided it had been a big mistake!”

Crowley’s brow furrows. Artemisia gives both of them a pointed look. Aziraphale, feeling slightly hurt and angry, goes on. “And then, you do not show your face for a couple of centuries. What was I supposed to think? Tell me!”

The demon looks away and murmurs, “I’m sorry…”

“What?!”

“I’m sorry, alright? I… when I was in that cage, Ligur came to talk to me. He was suspicious because you didn’t kill me with your smiting. And so I thought it was better if we didn’t see each other for a while…” Crowley throws a glance at Aziraphale’s face, but for once can’t understand what the angel is thinking. 

There’s a moment of silence, then Aziraphale asks, “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t seem a good idea back then…”

The three of them contemplate these words for a while. Eventually, Artemisia says, “Well… I suppose you could right that wrong now that you both know the truth.”

Crowley holds his breath as the angel says, “I suppose we could. I just need… some time to elaborate that.” Then, he smiles a bit forcefully and adds, “Anyway, our story isn’t finished yet. Where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale weren't supposed to kiss in this fic, at first I meant them to be unsure. BUT HOW COULD I NOT???


	6. The fifth day

**587 B.C.**

Dawn was due in an hour when Judith finally knocked at Bethulia’s doors. Wary eyes met hers and then they were let into the city.

She led them to her house and opened the door. “You can stay here,” she told Anutar and Azaria, “I must go to speak with Oziah, Cabri and Carmi.”

“Yes, I think we could use some rest but,” the yellow-eyed priest answered, lowering his voice, “a word with you, before you leave.”

He nudged the maid inside, whispering something to her, and then turned back to Judith.

“The head,” he started, nodding at the bloodied bag, “What are you going to do with it?”

She raised it, frowning. “You know, I was simply thinking of showing it to the city rulers as a proof of Holofernes’s demise but… what do you suggest?”

“Spike it on the walls. The Babylonians must see it first thing first in the morning. It will destroy their morale.”

“They still outnumber us” Judith pointed out.

“True, but you have no idea how effective a severed head can be.”

“If you say so… Make sure Azaria… _Aziraphale_ recovers.” 

Anutar chuckled, “Clever girl.”

“I've got ears, you know. And I’m not dumb as other _humans._ ”

“No, you are not. See you later, I guess.”

“See you later.”

Judith left, carrying her heavy bag, the flaming sword still secured at her side.

Crawly closed the door gently and finally approached Aziraphale, who was standing very still in the middle of the room.

“Angel,” he asked softly, “are you all right?”

There was no answer.

“Angel?” the demon repeated, gently putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders.

Aziraphale finally met his gaze. “I… I’m fine” he murmured.

“No, you’re not” Crawly protested, leading him to the sofa with a light touch on his back. “Tell me what’s wrong. If that’s alright.”

The angel sat down and rubbed his eyes. He looked so tired as he spoke. “I… you know, I am very well aware that humans are capable of great violence. And… and to be honest, Upstairs is too. Noah’s ark. Egypt. But… but I’ve never witnessed it, no, I’ve _refused_ to witness it since… since…”

“Since the Fall” Crawly finished for him. He still trembled at the memory of it.

“Yes” Aziraphale whispered. “I… I don't know what you remember about the battle but… it was terribly violent. Angels crashing against one another between the clouds. Sneers, shouts, pain… And I was in the middle of it and as my brethren fought and fell around me, I couldn't do anything but wonder… _why?_ Why would She…”

“Don’t” Crawly interrupted him. “Please don't. It all started like that.”

Aziraphale shook his head and went on with his story. “And then… an angel attacked me. I raised my sword, that sword, instinctively, to defend me. Next thing I know, that angel is no more and their… their ethereal remains are all over me… I wanted to stop fighting but… I couldn’t. It was them or me.”

The demon knelt in front of Aziraphale and took his hands. He didn't know what to say, because the memory of the Fall was painful for him too and because he was a demon, after all, comforting wasn't his thing. So he took Aziraphale’s hands and hoped to convey his understanding through that touch alone. The angel shuddered but didn't move away. They held onto each other for a while before any of them talked again.

“We shouldn’t linger any longer” the angel murmured. “Battle awaits.”

“You don’t have to be there, if you don’t want to” Crawly countered.

Aziraphale sighed but stood up. “There is not much we can do at this point. But I want to be there. Will you join me?”

“Of course, angel,” the demon answered, “Of course.”

Judith visited the houses of Oziah and Carmi. They were all quite puzzled to see her back in the city but followed her nonetheless to Cabri’s home. Achior was there too and welcomed her with a grim nod.

“Judith. I’m happy to see you here but… wouldn't it have been better to stay at the Babylonian camp? There you would have been safe” Cabri said.

“I won't cower as my fellow citizens suffer,” Judith answered, “and besides, I’m a harbinger of hope.”

Before the men could say anything else, she lifted her bag and let the head tumble on the wooden floor. A horrified silence followed.

Then Achior whispered, “This is Holofernes’s head.”

“Yes” Judith confirmed. 

“Then your God finally decided to help you!” the Ammonite’s king cried, standing up. The city rulers were still gaping at the head, unable to speak.

“Do you know what this means?” Achior went on, “It means that tomorrow the city will stand a chance! We must fight because we have God’s favour on our side. We must tell everyone and praise the Lord!”

Oziah, Carmi and Cabri finally recovered from the surprise and exchanged weak smiles.

“This is a true miracle” one of them whispered.

“Yes” Judith said, though it didn't feel much like a miracle to her. Actually, it felt more like a very… material thing. Like a material sword severing a material head, with no divine intervention needed. But who was she to sabotage their newly found faith in God? No one, just a very lucky woman. So she kept her thoughts to herself and praised the Lord alongside them.

The troops woke up early that morning. They already had the order to form their ranks and be ready to march. They were only waiting for Holofernes to lead them. But the general appeared to be late. At first the soldiers laughed, winking at each other. Most of them had seen how beautiful Judith was so they had no doubt about what he was doing. An hour later, though, they started to be worried. A nice woman is a nice woman but… there was a war going on. Still, they didn't dare to disturb him. Two hours later, Bagoas, the highest ranked officer, found himself pushed to Judith’s tent, to ask the general if he was ready.

Bagoas hesitantly peaked inside. It was dark, not a single candle was lit. There was a foul smell he couldn't really place.

“General?” he whispered. No answer.

The officer pushed the flap of the tent completely open, so to let the light in. A ray of sun slithered inside to finally pool on the bed, highlighting the stark contrast of dark blood on white sheets. Bagoas gulped in horror as he beheld what remained of Holofernes. He ran back to the army, pale as death. As the news spread, the army started to unfold, panicked, breaking the neat lines of once fearless soldiers. It was at that moment that the sound of a horn blasted from the city. Every single Babylonian looked in that direction. They saw a spike being planted on the walls, a round shape on one end. They couldn't make out what it was, but there wasn't much room for a guess. As Bethulia greeted the enemy army with their general’s head, its gates opened, letting out a stream of people ready for the battle, ready to die for their home.

Aziraphale and Crawly watched as the brave people of Bethulia went to fight. The Babylonian army hadn't recovered from the shock yet, but they still outnumbered the city fighters.

“They won’t make it” the angel whispered, terrified.

“They might. The Babylonians look lost. Maybe…” the demon started.

“They are still better trained. And many, many more.” Aziraphale took a deep breath, his face pale but resolute. “I’m going down there” he added, as his wings boomed in existence. 

It was right in that moment that the sound of a horn resonated in the air, coming from the East. The angel paused, wary. Then, another one blasted from the West, followed by a third from the South. Crawly manifested his wings too, brushing Aziraphale’s. Together, they shot in the sky, so fast no human eye could have seen them. From up there, the two immortal beings could see the whole city, the dark sea that was the Babylonian army, the small spot formed by the people from Bethulia and… and coming from everywhere, they could see several small units, running and riding as fast as possible toward the city. Bethulia’s horn rang too, to welcome the allied troops, which together could finally fight the enemy.

“They came!” Aziraphale smiled and soared back to the walls.

The newly arrived joined Bethulia’s people and together they charged the Babylonian soldiers, a fair rider leading them all. Judith. Aziraphale let out a concerned gasp but, the next moment, the girl drew a sword. A flaming sword. She raised it in the air, letting out a battle cry.

The two armies clashed. The Babylonians were completely panicking, no one was holding their lines, while the mixed people of Judea were determined and ready to do anything to protect their home. The enemy tried to fight but they had been too thinly scattered. And when they finally saw the flaming sword, a divine token in the hands of their opponent, they lost any hope they had of winning. Someone called for retreat and the Babylonians started to run. They turned around and ran for their lives. Someone made it. Most of them didn't. 

Crawly watched every single moment of it, somehow fascinated because of some kind of morbid reason, linked to his supposed evil nature; the angel, though horrified, watched too, as a reminder. He also tried to ease the suffering of the dying, even if there were too many for him.

Once the carnage stopped, Crawly turned to Aziraphale and wondered, “The strange thing with humans is, that they have no true side. Hell and Heaven are always trying to pull them in one direction or the other, but, most of the time, they manage to stay in between. Make one wonders if our job ever had any bloody sense.”

The demon half expected for his friend to explain that no, a good and a bad side truly existed. But Aziraphale’s eyes were fixed on the bloodied plain. With that sight, it was impossible to deny the truth which the demon’s words held.

The people of Bethulia and the allied tribes entered the city triumphantly, Judith leading them all. Soon, all the women reached her, crowned her with an olive branch and started dancing. The young men who had fought followed, children and elders soon after. They paraded through the city to the main square, where the city rulers were waiting for them, joyous tears at their eyes. Everybody was singing odes to the Lord.

“This is terribly sappy. And useless” Crawly commented. His expression was something in between cringe and amusement. 

“Humans need someone to thank, someone to turn to in these moments” Aziraphale supplied. He knew the Lord wouldn't care about this demonstration of faith but he liked the festive atmosphere nonetheless.

“Ngk” was the demon’s answer.

Judith had reached the three city rulers now. She was still holding the flaming sword. 

Oziah, Carmi and Cabri smiled at her and then bowed. The crowd followed suit and the girl was left the only one standing. She looked at them all, serious and almost imperious.

“Holofernes came with his army. He came to burn this country, to slaughter our youth and rape our women. He came to destroy us and we asked God, we _demanded_ to our Lord to save us. But that is not the way of the Almighty. Holofernes was not killed by a hero. He was killed by a humble woman. I seduced him, I earned his trust and then ended him with this very holy sword, with the help of my maid. Beware to the people who want to defy us: because as long as we have faith, no one will be able to harm us!”

Every single person finally stood up, cheering. Two of the young men lifted Judith on the air and had her parading around on their shoulders. Everyone wanted to see her, everyone wanted to touch her. Judith looked stoic, a queen accepting the tribute her people offered.

“Isn't that blasphemous, now.”

“Crawly, the Almighty… doesn't care, I suppose.”

The festivities went on for the whole day. The city was decorated with flags and olive branches, flasks of wine were distributed around, bread was baked and Judith stood the whole day there, in the middle of everything.

When the sun sank between the distant hills, the party was still going on. Aziraphale and Crawly had decided to mingle, just to end up stealing two flasks of wine and later find a quiet place where to drink undisturbed.

The city walls were empty and bathed in moonlight. They were just getting comfortable when they heard someone sniffing, from the shadow of one of the observation towers which dotted the walls.

Aziraphale approached, glowing the softest light, the wine forgotten. “Judith?” he whispered.

It was her. The girl was seated down, hugging her knees close to her chest, trembling and crying. Her dress was still caked in blood, her hair plastered to her head.

“Judith, what are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked, slowly approaching her. She didn’t move and let the angel sit beside her. Crawly, even if slightly embarrassed, followed suit.

Judith didn’t answer immediately, but when she did, her voice was croaked. “I couldn’t stand a moment more down there. I just… couldn’t. So, as soon as they weren’t all watching me, I ran up here.” Then, she looked down at her, at the blood still on her. “What have I done?” she whispered and buried her head between her arms.

Seeing Aziraphale at a loss of word, Crawly decided to talk. “You did what was necessary. Maybe it was awful, but you must realise Holofernes had to be taken down.”

“Crawly!” the angel protested. But Judith raised her head and said, “No, he’s right. It’s just…” She hesitated, but then went on, “It’s just that at first I was expecting God’s help too. But it was foolish, really. Because the truth is, we are alone, here on Earth. _We_ must save ourselves.”

Aziraphale glanced at Crawly and beamed. “You are right Judith. We must save ourselves. But a little help never hurt anybody.”

The girl chuckled. “True. I suppose I should thank you both, then.”

“There’s no need” Aziraphale said in the same moment in which Crawly mumbled, “Nah, shut up!”

Judith laughed again and smiled at them. Her eyes were a bit puffy as she reached for something at her back and then handed the flaming sword to Aziraphale. “I think this is yours. Thank you.”

Aziraphale caressed the scabbard with one hand but didn't take it. “I don't want it. I gifted it to humans in need. I would like it… stayed that way.”

“I understand. I’ll give it to Achior then, if you don't mind. I don't want it too.”

“Yes” the angel answered, squeezing Judith’s arm. Then he added, “My dear, you look terribly tired. Do you want to share some wine with us? There’s enough for three, I bet.”

So the three of them started drinking together. And somehow, they never ran out of wine.

Later that night, Crawly left Aziraphale alone with Judith. The two of them had a couple of things to discuss. Moreover, soothing a suffering human wasn't exactly Crawly’s thing.

Now that the rush of adrenaline from the battle had worn out, the demon thought back at Ligur’s words. If Hell truly suspected him of fraternizing with an angel… He had to leave. He couldn't risk Aziraphale’s safety.

Crawly hated goodbyes. So he summoned his wings and left, sneaking away no better than a thief in the night.

## ***

**1613**

“And then she said ‘we save ourselves’ if I remember correctly…”

“Yes, and you added ‘but a little help never hurt anybody’. Always so kind, my angel.”

Aziraphale chuckles at the memory, while gazing at the picture. It is finally finished and he must admit that it’s one of the best renditions of _Judith and Holofernes_ he ever saw. A bit too gory maybe, but the real event had been even bloodier…

Artemisia lets out a satisfied breath as she gives the last stroke. A red stroke. She contemplates it for a moment and then says, “So. This is the end.”

“I suppose it is” Aziraphale agrees. He himself feels a bit strange. Nostalgic, already.

“Does it truly feel like the end to you?” Crowley asks.

The girl thinks it briefly over, then smiles. “No. It feels more like a new start. Thank you.”

They stare at the painting for a while, still stuck in between the memory of the story and the present moment.

“What about you two, though?” Artemisia eventually asks. “Did you… make up completely?”

Crowley looks away, suddenly finding the ceiling of the workshop very interesting.

_Did we?_ Aziraphale wonders, watching his friend. He knows the answer already.

“ _Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins_ ” he proclaims.

Crowley brows furrow but Aziraphale can tell that his words have struck home. “Whatever you say, angel. You know that I hate when you quote the Bible to me.”

“Bible or not, Crowley, it means I forgive you and I hope you will forgive me too. Actually, there is nothing that needs to be forgiven, I think.”

The demon smirks and nods.

“You know what else I gather from that line from the Bible?” Artemisia asks them with a smug grin. “That it is ok that you snogged. You may do it again, I supposed.”

“You learn fast, I see” Crowley comments with a laugh.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale squeals. But deep down, he’s way too pleased. It doesn't sound like a bad idea, after all.


	7. Epilogue

A remarkable red-haired woman met a dark-skinned man in between what remained of the Babylonian war camp. They waited for a bit. Eventually, a third figure joined them. Whoever they were, they wore tattered brownish clothes and the little skin which was showing had a rather unhealthy look.

“Sorry, I’m late. When do we begin?” the last comer asked.

“It’s too late, you idiot. We could have used your help” the dark-skinned man muttered bitterly. “Our efforts have been already thwarted.” He was a strange guy too, if you had looked at him up close, you would have noticed that his teeth were a bit too sharp to be normal. 

“Well, you know, typhus doesn't spread by itself” the brownish figure protested.

The woman seemed not to be paying attention to her companions' quarrel. On the contrary, she was taking in the destruction surrounding them with big, greedy eyes. 

“I mean,” the man went on, “the city didn't even truly suffer hunger. They just didn't have much water. Didn't leave me with much to feed on. Some kind of illness would have helped, you know? Ugh, whatever. Coming here was a waste of time.”

“Speak for yourself,” the woman smiled, “Maybe the battle didn't go as we would have preferred, but I still got my fair amount of bloodshed. And it is much better when such a _battle_ is led by those who are supposed to be the good guys.”

The brownish figure nodded while the dark man couldn't help but smirk. Eventually, he added, “I guess that Death must be rather satisfied too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I hope you enjoyed it, if you want to leave a kudos or a comment, you'll make me happy.
> 
> Also, check out my other stories!


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